


Irresistible Force

by Gala_and_Elle, gala_apples, theletterelle



Series: Slantverse [46]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alpha Males, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - High School, Consent Play, M/M, Paddling, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-17
Updated: 2012-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-14 17:39:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gala_and_Elle/pseuds/Gala_and_Elle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples, https://archiveofourown.org/users/theletterelle/pseuds/theletterelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now that they've gotten the bugs worked out of their relationship, it's time for Frank and Matt to do the deed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Irresistible Force

As far as Matt knows, out of the massive swarm of bodies that showed up at Gabe’s birthday party, and that sit at the cafeteria table, Mikey is Frank’s best friend. Of course that’s where it gets complicated, because Mikey is also Pete’s best friend, and Pete’s other best friend is Gabe, who’s got a triad so strong Matt thinks they might try to make it work after they graduate. When you’ve got twenty close friends, the interconnections are going to be messy. But as far as he knows, it’s Mikey.

So that’s who he contacts. Mikey has chemistry with Miguel, so on Friday Matt raises his hand to go to the bathroom, carefully slides his notebook under his arm and just doesn’t come back. Miguel exits the chem lab first, but he can somehow see without Matt saying a word that he’s not here for him. He just nudges him gently as he walks past, a sort of silent good luck.

Mikey’s one of the last out, scribbled on backpack slung low on his back. It takes him long enough that Matt didn’t really need to blow off the last five minutes of class. Hopefully he doesn’t get a detention for it. He’s got no time for regrets though, Mikey’s passing by him without even pausing.

Matt scurries forward, but hesitates before putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him. Mikey’s a sub, with a few switch tendencies, Matt knows that much. From what he’s seen none of them really fully follow the normal etiquette of not touching other people without permission. Still, there’s a difference between belching at the table with family and doing it at a random cafe. If things go well he’ll be touching Mikey later, at least incidentally. For now, better to be polite.

“Hey Mikey, you got a minute?”

He stops, edging to the side of the hall so they’re not in the way of anyone else. “Hey Matt. What’s up? Need me to pass a message to Frankie or something? You know you could just eat with-”

“It’s not that. I need help with something with Frank.”

“Sisky really likes to help. Uh, obviously. That being his slant and everything. I can text him for you?”

“No.” Sisky could probably help him, at the very least Matt knows he’d do his best. But he wants someone who’s got a past with Frank, and he’s pretty sure Pete brought Sisky into the group a while back.

“Ooo-kay? What do you need, then?”

“You switch, sometimes, right?”

“Not much. Only enough to keep stuff interesting. My slant, right? Why?”

Matt quickly outlines his plan. He’s not even done before Mikey’s shaking his head. “You don’t want me. Not that I _wouldn’t_. But if you really want someone with a past with Frank, call Ray.”

“Ray? Really?”

“Before you, Ray took care of Frank whenever he started bratting. You’re not ruining their thing or anything, don’t worry. They could never have a thing. Ray’s kinda the most traditional of all of us, though he’s not like them.” Mikey waves his hand in a way that doesn’t indicate the Letos at all, but of course Matt knows that’s what he means. “His whole thing is about respect. And Frank’s. Well. Frank. You know?”

Matt is well aware of the difficulties that come with domming Frank Iero. He nods. “It’s not like it’s a bad thing, though. I mean, he doesn’t do it to be difficult; it’s just part of his slant, to get his head where it needs to be.”

“Well, yeah, I know that. When did you find it out?” Mikey grins crookedly at him.

Not until he’d sat Frank down and made him dissect every part of their last scene-- what worked, what didn’t, why it didn’t. It was the longest conversation he ever had with Frank. Maybe with anyone. Matt just shrugs at Mikey in response.

Mikey seems to understand. “Anyway, yeah. Call him. You have a cell?” Matt holds it out, and Mikey programs in what Matt assumes is Ray’s number.

Matt waits till he gets home and up in his room before he calls Ray. Ray answers on the second ring. “Toro.”

“Ray. Hey, it’s Matt. Cortez.”

“Matt, hey. What’s up?”

Matt leans back against his bed. “I have a proposal for you...”

*

He hangs back, waiting for the halls to clear out after the last bell. Ray and Frank are among the last to leave, Ray putting his arm around Frank’s shoulders, Frank shrugging it off. When they leave the building is when Matt makes his move.

He bursts out of the double doors when Ray and Frank are a few feet away. They both turn around, and Matt swoops in to grab Frank by the back of the neck. Frank kicks out automatically, but Matt’s grip is tight.

“Ow, ow, let me go, asshole!” It’s the same song and dance Frank’s given before. Matt doesn’t say a word. He steers Frank over to Ray’s car, unlocks the door, and throws him inside. Frank lunges back and bites Matt’s hand before he can get it out of the way.

“Fuck!” Goddamn, that really hurt. Matt’s distracted by the pain, and Frank makes a break for it. Matt inspects his hand-- no skin broken, although the teeth marks are swelling already-- and when he turns around, Ray’s got Frank by the hair and one arm.

“You shit,” Frank says, rolling his eyes up to look at Ray. “You guys planned this?”

“I’ll get him in,” says Ray, “you close the door.”

Matt nods and grabs the door handle. Ray propels Frank to the car and pushes him inside; Matt slams the door and locks it. Frank slaps the window, but seems less inclined than before to make trouble. Matt and Ray look at each other. Ray’s breathing hard, a stray curl fallen out of his ponytail. Matt grins. “Ready for round two?”

Ray grins back. “You better drive. Let’s do this thing.”

Matt’s expecting Frank to do something when he gets into the driver’s seat. He’s not disappointed. He gets slapped in the back of the head once before Ray twists in the passenger’s seat. Ray blocks most of the rear view mirror, but Matt can see enough to know he’s got Frank by the hair again.

“Let’s do some basic math, Frank,” he says calmly, like Frank’s not trying to pry his fingers off. “Right now there are three guys, all interested in getting off. At some point aggravated lust turns into pure irritation. Even for you. What do you think Matt’s threshold is? What do you think mine is? How quickly do you think you can piss me off enough that I don’t care about sex anymore?”

“So this is gonna be sex,” Frank demands.

“Or maybe I’ll just paddle you as Matt punches your thighs. But at some point we’ll lose interest. You want Matt to pull over after you’ve slapped him twenty times, and me and him get Lou to buy us beer while you go jerk off alone? Or you want us to smack you around and come on your face?”

“I want a scene, fuckers. Obviously.”

“Then sit your ass up, and put your seat belt on. We’ll continue in his garage-”

“Driveway,” Matt corrects.

“Driveway. You’ll get your chance to struggle. But not now.”

Matt’s not particularly surprised that when Ray warily lets go, Frank settles against the velvety grey upholstery. Frank’s not stupid. Not in the least. He knows how to get what he wants. Sometimes he’s willing to concede to the smaller things, so he can get something bigger out of it. If he knew what was actually going to go down once they got to Matt’s house, he’d probably submit to a toddler’s car seat to get it.

“Hey ma, need the basement, you’ll meet him later!” It all comes out in a rush as he and Ray hustle Frank inside, an arm each. He kicks for a moment, then stops when he sees the curio cabinet of blown glass. It’s just more proof that Frank is a good guy, under his asshole sheen.

Matt considers just pushing Frank down the stairs. In the end he doesn’t. It’s not a controlled fall. The last thing he needs right now is for Frank to crack his skull and get a concussion. He’s got a plan, he doesn’t need it ruined with a hospital visit.

“Let me go,” Frank demands when they get him downstairs.

“You know that’s not going to happen,” says Matt. He looks around. There’s the sofa, but the rug will give him and Ray more leverage. He grips Frank by the upper arms. “Take him down,” he says to Ray, and Ray kicks Frank’s feet out from under him.

It’s less a fall than a guided descent, Matt lowering Frank down so he only drops for the last few inches. Ray kneels and puts his hands on Frank’s chest, and Matt unbuttons Frank’s jeans. Frank struggles for form’s sake, but it’s more wiggling out of his pants than a real attempt to get away.

“Let’s get him turned over,” Matt says to Ray, and before Frank can protest, he’s flipped over onto his stomach. This time Matt holds Frank down, one hand in his hair, the other pressing on his upper back. Frank stills when Ray presses the paddle against his ass.

“Get your knees under you,” says Ray. “Gravity’s not your friend in this case.”

Frank snarls, but obviously sees the sense in that, and pulls his knees up so his ass is in the air, his cheek pushed into the carpet. “Dick,” he spits.

“Shut the hell _up_ ,” says Ray, and slams his paddle into Frank’s ass.

Frank chokes. The impact means Matt has to brace himself to keep Frank’s torso from moving. Ray hits him again, and honestly, Matt had no idea he was going to hit this hard, but Frank’s taking it without objection. Ray’s been doing this for a while. Matt can trust he knows what he’s doing.

Matt can’t see Frank’s dick, but he’s pretty sure he’s hard. The challenge will be to keep him at that edge without letting him go over. Not before Matt gets his, anyway. “You’re going to stay down,” he growls softly into Frank’s ear. The paddle whacks him again. “You’re going to stay down, because I win. I will always win, and you will never beat me.”

Frank groans, whether in response to the words or to the paddle Matt doesn’t know. He arches his back, presenting higher for Ray, and it’s pretty much the hottest thing Matt’s ever seen in his life.

Ray does the next seven in silence. The room is almost completely silent, apart from Frank’s breath catching with each impact. According to Ray, he changes technique depending on the needs of the sub, and apparently he thinks Frank doesn’t need chastisement, or a more casual chatter. He’s probably right. Matt can’t imagine Frank would take well to being told to count off ‘one sir, two sir’.

Frank’s not swearing anymore, he’s not fighting it. Matt wants more than that. He broke Frank, a few days ago, against the wall. It was beautiful. Now he wants to see Frank admitting he wants to be broken. He knows he does, Frank’s all but said it in normal conversation. He jerks his head and Ray catches the movement. He nods an inquiry, and Matt nods his answer.

Ray puts his paddle down on the carpet. There’s no real audible thunk, but Frank must see it out of the corner of his eye. His hair pulls in Matt’s grip as he turns his head to check that it’s really put down.

“Yeah, it’s down. Tell Ray thanks.” Matt highly fucking doubts it, but it’ll give him the excuse he needs.

“Fuck off,” Frank answers weakly.

It’s enough. Matt slides the hand on Frank’s back down the curve of Frank’s ass. His skin is red, hot. It might bruise. Everyone in the room wants it to. He curls his fingers and squeezes, his other hand making Frank look him in the eye. Or that’s the theory. Frank doesn’t have his eyes open, they shutter closed as his legs jackknife out.

“I bet Ray could go another ten. Could you go another ten, Ray?”

“Yep,” he answers easily.

“You want another ten?”

“No.”

“Then how about you have some motherfucking manners?”

There’s a pause that stretches out, both of them watching to see what Frank will do. When Frank finally says “Go to hell,” his voice cracks. Good. Matt can use that.

He pulls Frank down the rest of the way, so he’s flat on the floor, and brings his hand down with a loud smack. Frank jumps, mumbles “Fuck,” but doesn’t resist. Matt hits him again, three times in a row, pop pop pop. If Frank didn’t yell for the paddle, he’s not going to yell for this, but when Matt slams his hand against Frank’s butt twice more he notices Frank’s legs shaking.

“You like this, don’t you Frank?” Matt’s tone is conversational, in contrast with the heavy slaps he’s dealing out. “You want us to keep doing this.”

“No.” Frank’s voice is thick. He makes an effort to push himself up, but Ray pushes him back down easily.

“Don’t lie,” says Ray.

“I’m not,” says Frank unevenly. “Stop.”

“Bullshit,” Matt says. “Tell us you like it, and thank Ray for paddling you, or things are about to get a lot worse.”

Frank is silent. Matt expected as much. “Hold him tight,” he mouths to Ray, and Ray nods and takes a firmer grip. Matt spreads Frank’s asscheeks apart with his left hand, and his right comes down hard in between. Frank yelps and jerks forward. Matt hits him again. And again.

After the fifth or sixth, Frank snaps. “Fuck, fuck, ow, God, stop, okay? I’ll say it, I’ll say it, just stop first.” He pants for breath, not crying but not very far from it either. “Okay. Fuck. Okay. Thank you.”

“Thank you, who?” Matt won’t let him get off that easily.

“Thank you, Ray,” Frank says.

“Not good enough,” says Matt, and whacks him again. This time Frank does cry out. “What are you thanking Ray for?”

“Thank you,” Frank says, voice tight with pain, “for paddling me.”

Matt knows that somehow, some way, Frank’s going to do his best to get back at him for this. Well, bring it on. He’ll smack Frank to the floor fifty times if he has to. If Frank needs him to.

“Now ask me to hit you again,” Matt says.

“Oh fucking _Christ_ ,” says Frank.

“If you want to get off this year, ask.”

Frank swears inventively, but after a minute his creativity runs out. Matt’s still got his ass spread open. Frank takes a deep breath. Lets it out. “Please hit me.”

“Why?” Matt can be an evil bitch.

“Because you fucking want to.”

“No. Really why?”

There’s another deep breath. “Because I want you to.” Matt can barely hear it, but barely is good enough. He delivers the final smack and sits back. Frank squirms a little, but doesn’t struggle.

“Let’s flip him over,” says Matt, and he and Ray roll Frank onto his back. Frank shudders when his ass hits the carpet, cock harder than ever. Matt wants to squeeze his ass and suck him off. He would too, except today is planned, and it’s not going to end with a blowjob.

Ray sits on one of Frank’s arms and reaches over to pin the other down. Matt’s not worried about blood circulation. Maybe if they were using a stranger, but Ray’s not a moron, he won’t damage Frank. Matt takes the opportunity after Ray gets settled to stand up and strip. He does his best to not seem frantic, but Frank’s eyes are closed anyway, and Matt’s only a human being. Ray’s dick is bulging in his jeans, but when they talked on the phone Ray said he wasn’t going to get naked, and Matt respects it. He knows Frank wouldn’t say no to a full out threesome, and he wouldn’t either, but it’s Ray’s choice.

“You know what else I know you want?”

Ray opens his mouth, undoubtedly to inform Frank it’s not rhetorical, but Frank beats him to it. “What?”

“You want to be fucked. And you know why? You want to be fucked because that’s that’s what losers do. They get used by the winners.” The lube is on his fingers, and he gets one inside Frank before he can answer, and once it’s in Frank’s mouth just hangs open. It’s a pretty smooth glide, something Matt is grateful for. As much as he wants to hurt Frank, he doesn’t want to do it like this.

“We both know I’ll always win, so I’ll always use you. You can fight it if you want to. It’s more fun that way, we both know that. But you’ll never beat me, Frank.” Another finger. Frank bucks. Matt doesn’t stop.

“Might be just us. Might have a dozen people watching. But no one is rooting for you. They all like when you lose. Almost as much as you do.” Matt sort of expects Ray to get a shot in but he doesn’t say a thing. They talked about that too; how involved Ray would get. They left it up to what felt right in the moment. Apparently Ray thinks it’s better that he stay quiet as Matt preps Frank.

“This is what it feels like to lose, Frank.”

He pulls his wet fingers out and uses that hand to move Frank’s leg further out of the way. His cock is slick but he gets it slicker, and edges even closer to his boy and slowly presses in. His body seizes, and there’s a grimace on Frank’s face that doesn’t look a hundred percent good. Matt would bend forward and kiss him, but it wouldn’t help. Instead he pulls a page out of last Friday’s book and slaps Frank’s stomach. He clenches, which makes him grunt. Matt slaps him again.

“All right,” Frank says. “I’m okay, just.” His face is pained and embarrassed. “You win, okay? Just a second, okay?”

Matt’s pretty sure that if he just kept going, Frank would let him, the loser acceding to the winner’s desire. It’s hard not to. He _wants_. But he waits, nails digging into the carpet, until Frank relaxes, and Matt’s able to push the rest of the way in.

It feels like heaven. Frank’s not virgin-tight, but tight enough. He makes a noise, and Matt pulls back slowly, then thrusts. It forces a grunt out of Frank, then another and another as Matt picks up speed. He fucks Frank in long, slow, powerful strokes that drive home his dominance as much as if he’d shouted it aloud.

Ray is still there, hands clamped tight around Frank’s upper arms. He looks at Matt for a second with a half-smile. Matt’s encouraged; if Ray thinks it’s going well, it’s going well. He knows Ray would beat the shit out of him if he were to harm Frank, and Matt would let him. He thinks Ray knows that.

God, Matt is _so gone_ for this dude. Never mind getting a friend to join in for their first time, Matt’s becoming hardpressed to think of something he _wouldn’t_ do for Frank.

Frank is gasping now, arching his back every time Matt slides in. Matt goes faster, harder. It makes Frank groan in a sound that’s halfway between pain and pleasure. His cock is stiff and slaps against his belly every time Matt shoves in, and Matt’s pretty sure Frank would be jerking himself off if Ray would let him. “Not yet,” Matt growls. “You don’t come before I do, got it?”

“Yeah.” It’s an obvious effort for Frank to speak. “I won’t, I won’t, but please--” _Hurry_ , his eyes say when he opens them.

Matt hurries. Any further plan dissolves completely, he can’t think about what he might have done when Frank is staring at him with such a look on his face. It’s proof of the age old adage ‘even the best dom can be corrupted by the best sub’.

In lieu of a kiss he bites Frank’s lip as he comes. The skin must still be thin from Wednesday, it splits easily and Matt tastes blood. Matt’s not sure if it’s that or the build up of tension from his thrusting that makes Frank thrash his head into Ray’s hip and come. It’s probably both. They’re probably like Butcher and Chiz, never able to have non-active sex. Or at least Frank is. Matt should care. As a good dom he should note all of Frank’s reactions and work to build bigger and better scenes. Right now though, all he wants is to lie on his back and catch his breath.

“Aw fuck. Aw Christ. That was the best first time ever.” Frank’s not even looking at him, just grinning at the tile ceiling. Matt could almost come again, pride welling up inside him. He knew this would be the best way to make this special.

“‘Scuse me for a second,” Ray says, tucking a stray bit of hair behind his ear. He’s obviously hard, bulge large behind his zipper.

“You don’t have to-” Matt doesn’t mind. He doesn’t think Frank would either. They’re not interested in a triad, but Matt can’t see anything wrong with including Ray just a bit more than they already have.

“No, it’s good. It’s cool.”

Ray starts to head for the other side of the room, the side that has a few doors. He halts when Frank calls out “Hey Toro!”

“Yeah, Frank?”

“That doesn’t count as my birthday present!”

Ray snorts. “Didn’t think it would.”

Matt frowns. Clearly he should have checked Facebook, if Frank’s got a celebration so close that he’s declaring that. “When’s your birthday?”

“Monday. Don’ worry. Gabe an’ Gee’ll figure somethin’.” Frank’s slurring hard, and Matt’s only heard that one other time. He smiles and curls in against Frank to prevent drop as best as he can. Everything else can wait.


End file.
